


Riptide

by Terminallydepraved



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Depressing as shit, Drowning, M/M, Self-Destruction, Tragedy, Unhealthy Relationships, Xenophilia, human!chrollo, mermaid au, siren au, siren!hisoka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:06:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8005063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I held the water to my chest, and I loved.”</p>
<p>― Kiera Cass, The Siren</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> decided this would be my september project, so here we go. not sure where all this will be going since its going to be written chapter by chapter. cross your fingers with me and pray for a good ride. Shout out to my first tier patrons over on Patreon! Illumiknife, Intrepidescapist, and Officialpeakspider, this ones for you <3

A cooling breeze ruffled his hair and Chrollo looked up into the crystalline sky, tasting the salt that pervaded the air. Water lapped at his feet, the sand sneaking between his toes with every step he took. Another day in paradise, he thought, smiling down into the surf. Beautiful, peaceful, and idyllic.

A speck of pink caught his eye while he walked the line of the beach, and he stooped to snatch up the perfect shell before it could be dragged back out to sea with the tide. It lay in the palm of his hand like a perfect fit, rounded and unbroken and flawless despite the rough trip it took to get here. Chrollo smiled at it gently, nestling it among its brethren inside the basket propped on his hip.

A dozen others just like it rested atop the soft blanket inside, a testament to the storm that had ravaged the island the night before. The churning waves always brought such interesting treats after the sky unleashed itself on them. If he found a few more, he’d be able to make a lovely necklace.

Something to remember the storm by, he always said when the other islanders asked about his peculiar hobby. Another bout of nature survived, with him coming out stronger for it in the end. Pale pink sparkled under the sun and Chrollo moved towards it, kicking at the waves that dampened his sarong like a child playing in the sea.

“Hello there,” a voice called out, a bit distant but close enough to warrant his attention.

“Who said that?” Chrollo returned, his brow furrowed when he found no one in sight. This beach wasn’t known to the mainlanders, and he couldn’t recall a time when he’d ever had company while seashell hunting. It’d be a shame if someone had told about the cove.

There was a beat of silence, and then a warm laugh before he got an answer to his question. The sound of quiet splashing was all the warning he got before water rained down on him, a flash of red and gold imprinted upon his eyes before he closed them to the salt.

“Hey!” Chrollo complained, wiping the saltwater from his face, the culprit now abundantly clear. “That was rude.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it,” the man laughed, bobbing a few yards away with a sharp grin across his face. “You just looked so intent with your basket. I couldn’t help myself.”

Frowning, he looked down at his clothing, now speckled with water. How had he missed this man? Nothing about him was ignorable, especially with hair that vibrant.

He was handsome, like many of the men that visited the island were, but Chrollo couldn’t quite place him in his mind. “Are you new here?” he asked, letting the rising tide wash over his lap in cooling, gentle waves. The sun would be setting soon, and he’d need to hurry back home to start supper, but now that he knew he wasn’t alone, he couldn’t simply leave without sating his curiosity first.

The man smiled and swam a little closer, his skin glittering in the waning sunlight. It was almost like he had crystal in his skin, the pale muscles overlaid with diamonds. “I’ve lived here for as long as I can remember,” the swimmer said, a disarming and charming grin quirking his lips. “How about you?”

That didn’t sound right at all. “I’ve lived here all my life,” Chrollo said pointedly. He would have known if this man were another island dweller. He knew everyone here. “Where do you live? I’ve never seen you before.”

“Around,” he informed unhelpfully, gesturing vaguely towards the pier. “Why don’t you come swim with me? We could have some fun before you have to leave.”

A blush rose to his cheeks without his permission, and Chrollo looked down at the surf nestled in his lap. All these men were the same, trying to draw him in with pretty words so they could have their fun before they left again for the mainland. It wouldn’t work, and he wasn’t going to put up with this one trying.

Standing up, Chrollo gathered his bounty of shells in his basket and rested it on his hip. “I’m not interested in your kind of fun,” he said dismissively, looking above the man’s head to take in the sunset behind him. The fiery light made the horizon burn with reds and pinks and purples. It painted the swimmer’s hair all the more vibrant, his handsomeness nearly as breathtaking.

“Oh, don’t say that. You don’t even know what my kind of fun is,” he teased, bobbing closer with the rising tide. “You might like it if you tried it. Can’t your shells wait?”

Chrollo bit his lip. When the man smiled like that, his warm, golden eyes shining, it was hard to say no. “But…” he began, glancing between the waves and the forest.

“But?” he prompted, smiling so charmingly when Chrollo took an unconscious step towards him.

He swallowed and hitched his basket higher, feeling the sand begin to slope beneath the water. It was up to his knees now. “I can’t swim,” he admitted in an ashamed whisper, eyes locked on the inviting arms held open to him, just a handful of steps away. An unfamiliar voice in his head told him to join him, that he wanted to be lost in those arms.

Suddenly though, the voice disappeared, just like that. The man in the water laughed loudly, his warm, rich voice echoing out across the lapping waves. “Can’t swim?” he asked, his loose, crimson hair falling into his eyes boyishly. “But you live on an island. Isn’t that ironic?”

Chrollo stopped moving, his hand set on his hip while he fumed. What on earth made him want to join this man anyway? “I don’t need you teasing me about it,” he gritted, glaring at him hotly in the dying light of evening.

“Oh, don’t be like that. I think it’s cute.” Swimming a bit closer, the man disarmed him with only a smile. “You’re not like anything I expected to find, is all. I’m Hisoka. What’s your name?”

Complimenting him wouldn’t change anything. “I’m Chrollo,” he gave, taking another step closer to shore. “I don’t appreciate being made fun of.”

Hisoka pouted but didn’t try to follow him. He didn’t really need to. Something about him was magnetic, subtly drawing him in though no force could be felt. “I’d never make fun of you,” he promised, lifting a dripping hand to push back his damp hair. The movement highlighted his muscular chest, the strength in his arms. Everything about him was inviting, even when the retreating sun promised the opposite.

Chrollo forced himself to look away, taking that last few steps until he left the surf and was back on dry land. “It was nice meeting you,” he called out over his shoulder, his eyes lingering despite his best efforts, “but it’s time for me to go back home.”

“Will you be back tomorrow?” the man asked, sounding nothing like a person who had been turned down.

The sand stuck to his bare feet, grounding in a way that the water hadn’t been. Why was this man so persistent? He shifted the basket higher onto his hip, the shells inside chiming gently when they touched.

“Maybe,” he answered, a little lost in how the dying light played off Hisoka’s burning hair. The man’s smile was almost as blinding, almost as intoxicating. Chrollo stared, his mind turning unbidden to thoughts of angler fish, their bright lanterns hiding their teeth. “Why?”

“I’ll teach you to swim,” he answered, swimming easily in circles, so fluidly it looked inhuman. “So come back tomorrow. We can have some fun.”

It was hard to tear himself away. A cool breeze rolled in over the waves, chilling his damp skin and damper sarong until he couldn’t help but shiver. He needed to get home, he told himself, forcing his sight towards the forest.

“We’ll see,” he said quietly, but he knew Hisoka heard.

A laugh carried in on the next breeze, warm even through the cold.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> descriptions of drowning in this one

Sitting on the pier, his basket at his side and his thread in his hands, Chrollo wondered why he didn’t just do this at home. He swung his legs and sighed, his toes just skimming the cool water below. The beachfront was empty, like it always was. Just him.

He didn’t know why he expected there to be anything else.

Looping the thread around the base of the shell, he tied the knots he knew by heart, adding a few smaller shells around it. Pale pink, a swirl of orange, a few speckles: it’d be a lovely necklace soon. Would he sell this one? It was an off-season for tourists right now, so his usual market might not be there when he eventually wandered back into the village.

Maybe he’d just keep this one for himself. It’d be a reminder of the man who’d nearly gotten him. The one that got away.

Chrollo laughed to himself at the thought. How cliché. He reached for another pink shell, a pleasant breeze coming in off the ocean to ruffle his bangs and cool his skin. Salt and sea tickled his nose. When it was this beautiful, solitude really didn’t mean much. It was hard to be miserable with a view like this.

The sun sat behind him, warming his back while it stretched its light across the glittering waves, turning the cerulean water to glass. If he didn’t have his feet teasing the cool surface, he might have believed it to be some crystalline mirage. He knew better though, resisting the urge to walk across the shiny mirror.

“You’re so beautiful,” a voice murmured from below, and Chrollo startled horribly. The necklace slipped through his fumbling fingers, falling into the water with a small splash.

“Damnit!” he cursed, holding tightly to the pier as he peered over the edge, golden and familiar eyes staring right back at him. There was no sign of his necklace, all of that hard work lost to the briny waves. “You made me drop it!”

Hisoka smiled disarmingly, holding his hands up in a move to pacify his anger. He was swimmingly effortlessly, hiding in the shadows of the pier. “Hey, hey, I didn’t mean to,” he chuckled, looking down into the water. “I just wanted to say hello, since you came back like I asked.”

He was just as handsome half-hidden in the shade as he had been under the setting sun. Chrollo frowned at him, refusing to be taken in. “I worked really hard on that. Now I won’t be able to finish it.” His basket hardly had any shells left inside. There weren’t enough to start over, and those pink ones had been a gift from the storm.

“Why don’t you just swim on down and grab it?” the man asked, quirking a brow.

Chrollo sighed, staring down at his submerged toes. “It has to be twenty feet deep,” he sighed, mourning the loss. “How would I manage to dive that deeply? How would anyone?”

“You never know until you try,” came the smooth reply, Hisoka’s voice soft and almost a croon. A shiver trailed down Chrollo’s spine, his mind going a little hazy around the edges, like an image seen through fogged glass.

He bit his lip. The water was so cool, so pleasant and refreshing against his suddenly hot skin. It would feel so nice to be submerged. “But I can’t swim,” Chrollo said, staring into the golden eyes. Why wouldn’t the man come out from beneath the pier? He couldn’t really see him like this, at least, not below the surface of the water.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Hisoka soothed, responding to his thoughts when he shrugged off the shadows and entered into the light. “I’ll teach you.”

Chrollo’s lips parted in a gasp. The water muddled and refracted around the man, catching the light until he glistened like a jewel. “What are you?” he asked, unable to tear his eyes away let alone pull his feet from the water.

Where there should have been a waist, powerful thighs, kicking feet, there was only a fish’s tail. Hisoka grinned, something sharp and inhuman lying beneath the expression. His fins carried him through the crystalline depths, sheer and billowing like a lion fish.

“What am I?” he chuckled, dipping below the surface to swim just beneath his dangling feet. Red hair breached first, cool, strong hands gripping him by the ankles. “Why, I’m yours. Won’t you come swim with me?”

His fingers loosened their grip on the pier before he truly registered it. Chrollo leaned forward, hovering on the edge of tipping over into the creature’s embrace. “Hisoka….” He couldn’t look away from the beautiful tail, the rich colors seeming to burn beneath the water.

Hisoka’s lips parted, revealing sharp, mean teeth. “Chrollo,” he replied, his hands venturing up to his calves, sneaking beneath his sarong. “You really are beautiful.”

And just like that, Chrollo found himself falling forward, the water meeting him in a cold rush. His head felt so heavy, his limbs like lead. Was he supposed to be moving? The water came above his head and he watched the bubbles stream upwards, the sun a blurry, blinding golden light. It looked so warm, but he felt so cold.

Where was Hisoka? His mind fought to think.

Warm hands wrapped around his middle, and Chrollo caught a flash of teeth, a teasing smile.

Within a second, his head breached the water. Realization streamed back while the tears tore down his cheeks, water sputtering from his mouth as he coughed and hacked. Chrollo gripped the arms that held him as tightly as he could.

“Shhh, shhh,” Hisoka crooned, holding him to his chest the way one would cradle a child. “Were you scared?”

Chrollo could only cry, the salt water stinging his lungs, his throat, with every breath he took. “Why did you do that?” he asked brokenly, looking up into eyes as warm as the sun. He didn’t trust them, but he still wrapped his legs around the muscular tail, refusing to go back into that drowning abyss alone again.

A kiss fell to his cheek, small and chaste, tasting his tears mixed with the salt of the sea. “It got you to swim with me, didn’t it?” Hisoka teased, swimming them away from the pier, further away from land.

Chrollo watched it recede, wondering if this was how he was going to die.

Resolutely, he turned back to the creature. “Are you going to teach me?” he asked, the sea wind drying his tears for him. He’d given this monster enough of them. He wouldn’t give him any more. “Or kill me?”

“You know, to be perfectly honest with you,” Hisoka pondered, shifting onto his back to let Chrollo lay across his strong chest, “I haven’t quite decided yet.”

“How do you not know?” he demanded, his voice wrecked from the coughing fit.

Hisoka smiled, dipping below the water just enough to make him scramble and panic. He came back up, slicking back his wet hair with a mean grin. “Because I don’t know how to feel about you. You’re just so fun to play with.”

Chrollo took a look back towards shore, biting his lip hopelessly. There was no way he’d make it back, not if he had to swim it. A hand cupped his cheek, turning his attention back to the creature holding him.

“You’re very beautiful, Chrollo,” Hisoka observed, for the thousandth time since their initial meeting. “All of you humans have a certain appeal about you, but you…” He trailed off, his brow furrowed as if trying to decipher an unreadable text.

“What about me?” Chrollo prodded, curling his hands into fists that rested against the strong, smooth chest.

Lips parted in a grin more teeth than joy. “I can’t tell if I’d rather eat you or fuck you.”

The worst thing, Chrollo realized, about being stranded in the middle of the ocean with only a sea monster for buoyancy, was that there was simply no place to hide when things became too much. His cheeks flushed red and his eyes widened, Hisoka showing no sign that he was joking.

“Oh, I like that expression,” Hisoka crooned, his eyes alight with mirth. “You look so flustered. Do I make you nervous?”

There were so many reasons why he made him nervous, but all Chrollo could focus on was the handsome face only inches from his own and the muscled chest beneath his hands. His lips parted to say something, to manage some witty retort, but to his despair, nothing came out but a muted, weak, embarrassing sound.

Webbed fingers combed through his salt-stiff hair, just as a pressure began to build behind his eyes. “I think I really like you, Chrollo,” Hisoka sighed, his voice sounding so far off.

Chrollo listed forward, his fists uncurling as the strength left his body. He felt so far away, as if he were floating above the clouds. Gentle water lapped at him, strong arms tucking him beneath the creature’s chin.

“Why don’t you get some rest?” a voice like honey murmured, lulling him like a cradle. “Maybe if you wake up, you’ll have the answer to your question.”


	3. Chapter 3

****

Cool, damp sand brushed against his cheek, a gritty, jarring caress that nudged him from sleep like an insistent lover. Chrollo opened his eyes and wrinkled his nose, lifting himself from the sand that seemed to hold tightly to him regardless, reluctant to be parted from him. It was morning, the solitary beach empty but for the dawn’s light and the sound of gentle waves licking his bare feet.

Confusion curled around his shoulders, whispering in his ear that he shouldn’t be here. He should be at home, in his bed. Chrollo looked down at himself, shivering when a breeze chilled the water on his skin. A pale pink shell rested in his lap, almost as if the sea itself had brought him a gift while he slept.

How kind of the sea, he thought, to bring him another when his necklace had been lost—

Chrollo froze, the tranquility of the ocean’s song suddenly far less comforting than he’d ever known it to be. He stared out over the waves, searching for any sign of brilliant red, of a sharp, mean smile. Hisoka had done this, he realized. He’d taken him out, put him to sleep, and then left him here on the beach to awaken alone.

Wrapping his arms around himself, he took stock of his body, checking for any sign that he’d been hurt or otherwise. There was nothing to find. His clothing might be damp and his body chilled, but nothing appeared any worse for wear, even with the near drowning. Chrollo bit his lip and pushed himself upright and onto his feet.

He may not be injured, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be anywhere near the water right now. Not with that compulsion the creature seemed to command with ease. Snatching up the shell and giving his basket a forlorn look, he turned back into the forest. There was no way he was going to go back to the pier, even if it did mean leaving his things behind.

Chrollo closed his eyes and pushed past the palms and ferns, ignoring how the cool dew on the plants made him think about the icy fall into the sea. Darkness, that retreating golden light, the whisper in his ear that told him it was okay, it was what he wanted— He shuddered, ripping open his eyes to break away from the memory.

What was Hisoka? How could he make him fall, especially when Chrollo knew all too well that he couldn’t swim?

The forest opened up ahead of him, depositing him just outside of the town. Instead of continuing down the trail towards his own home, he turned into the marketplace, clutching the shell to his chest like a lifeline. It was still early, far too early for most of the villagers to be up and about to cater towards the few vacationers in their midst, but he knew that the elders would be awake. They never seemed to sleep past the sunrise.

Heads turned and whispers flew the second he stepped into the café. Chrollo ignored how his cheeks burned and pushed his way towards the bar. He looked like such a spectacle, and he couldn’t really blame them for staring. Clothes wet, sand falling from him with every step he took: he looked like a half-drowned animal, shivering and searching for shelter.

“Oh, Chrollo, honey, are you doing okay?” the woman behind the bar asked, tucking a curl of dark hair behind her ear. “You look like you had a rough night.”

Chrollo tried and somehow managed to give her a smile as he slipped into one of the barstools, feeling a little bad. “I’m sorry for tracking sand in here, Mali,” he mumbled, wanting the eyes to stop looking at him for five seconds. “I’m not feeling the greatest.”

Mali, ever the motherly type, glared at those gathered until they went back to their coffee and eggs. Clucking her tongue, she reached for the coffee pot and poured him a mug, heading for the fridge to grab the fresh cream. “Don’t you worry about it, honey. Sand is expected at this point.”

She poured a measure of the cream into his coffee, pushing the sugar towards him with a practiced air. Chrollo smiled up at her, the warmth of the mug seeping through his hands to warm him in turn. Mali was so kind to him, even when he did come to her a mess.

“Do you want me to whip you up some breakfast?” she asked, reaching over the counter to feel his forehead for a fever. “You look like a stiff wind would blow you over.”

“You always say that,” he chuckled, sipping the sweet coffee. “I’ll be fine. I need to talk to the elders though. Are they here?”

Raising a brow and placing a hand on her cocked hip, she looked like she didn’t believe him. “I think you need to get home and into your bed,” Mali chided, topping off his coffee even though he’d only taken a couple small sips. “Tourists are going to be comin’ out soon and you know how they get.”

Chrollo rolled his eyes, but smiled despite himself. “It’ll be quick, I promise,” he sighed, slipping off the chair. “Are they in the back?”

Mali huffed and nodded, for all the world like a disappointed mother. “I’ll carry you home myself if I don’t see you heading home after this,” she threatened, waving him towards the café’s private room.

Carrying his coffee with him, the shell tucked in the folds of his sarong, Chrollo darted down the back hall before the curious eyes had time to follow him. Mali was so kind to him, if a bit abrasive, but she meant well and that was enough for him.

Combing through his hair with his fingers and scattering sand with every pass, Chrollo tried to fix himself up a little before entering the open door. Voices sounded from within, quick and heated as they argued over whatever little thing they’d thought was worth arguing about this morning.

He took one last fortifying sip of coffee before plunging in, turning the corner to enter the room with a smile on his face that he hoped looked better than he did right now.

“Good morning,” he greeted quietly, a bit cowed as all eyes turned to him and him alone. “I’ve got some questions, if I’m not interrupting.”

Wizened faces stared at him, no doubt taking in his sodden state and tired eyes. “You look like someone who’s just had an experience,” Jura observed, picking at his remaining teeth with a toothpick. “Been out with those tourists all night?”

Chrollo flushed and grit his teeth. Everyone knew how much they bothered him, how they tried to flirt and coax him from his solitary ways. He didn’t appreciate the implication that’d he’d fallen for it. His hand tightened around the mug, but he was spared from having to respond.

“Don’t antagonize the poor thing,” Niyun chastised, gesturing to him and his coffee before pointing at the empty seat beside her. “What’s wrong, child? Sit and tell us.”

He sat with a glare and let her fuss, sipping from his drink before answering. “I met something while at the cove,” he began slowly, fishing out the shell from his sarong to place on the table. “I’m not sure what it was, but I think it wants to drown me.”

A hush fell over the elders, even Jura keeping his mouth shut. Niyun patted at his shoulder, telling him to go on with his story.

“It gave me this,” he said, nodding towards the shell. “I was sitting on the pier making a necklace of them and he- I mean, it, scared me and I dropped it into the water. Something told me to jump in and I…I listened. I almost drowned.” He stopped there, staring at the shell, the feeling of the water around him suddenly back.

He set the coffee on the table too so no one could see how his hands shook.

“What was it, son?” another asked, this one Kendon, a transplant from another island. “You said ‘he’.”

Swallowing past the salt water in his throat, Chrollo looked up. “He looked human. Or, well, mostly. I didn’t notice until I was nearly in the water that below the waist he was some sort of….creature. A monster.” The hand on his shoulder moved to wrap him into a hug. “There was something about his voice. It made me want to come to him, even though I knew I couldn’t swim. It made me want to drown so long as I came to him.”

None of them made a sound, but they all shared a look that was anything but inconspicuous. Chrollo looked to them all in turn, but when no explanation was forthcoming, he bit his cheek and did what he came here to do.

“What was it?” he asked, shifting in the seat. “You must know something. You all have lived here for decades, so you must know what he was.”  

Jura sighed and flicked his toothpick aside, throwing it to the floor for Mali to clean up later. “What I know, kid, is that you’re too cute for your own good. First the tourists, now this—”

Lanali hit him upside the head, cutting him off before he could make Chrollo feel even more terrible than he already did. “Cut that out,” she hissed, ignoring him when the old man groaned. “He didn’t go asking for this to happen. Were you on your beach again, looking for shells?” she asked, directing it at Chrollo.

“Yeah, after the storm came I found these shells and I wanted to get enough to make a necklace,” he murmured, poking at the pink shell. “He called out to me the first time, but I didn’t think anything of it.”

“Wait,” Kendon interjected. “The first time?”

Chrollo felt his cheeks warm up. “I thought he was just a swimmer. He told me to come back the next day, and I didn’t think anything of it. That’s when he found me on the pier.” His basket was still there, all alone near the water’s edge.

“I’ve been saying for years that we needed to close that beach,” Jura complained, rocking back in his chair with his arms crossed petulantly. “It was only a matter of time, if you ask me.”

“No one is asking you,” Niyun sighed, petting Chrollo’s head when he tried to look at them all in turn, desperate for a straight answer. “You know you can’t stop the younger ones from doing what they want. It hasn’t been an issue in twenty years.”

“What?” Chrollo demanded, bringing the attention back to him. “What is it that tried to take me?” He tried his best to keep his tone respectful. They loved to talk in circles but they were still the elders and he still needed answers.

Lips pursed and expression solemn, it was Kendon who answered. “Chrollo, if it is what it sounds like, then you attracted the attention of an _encantado._ ”

There was a beat of silence before Chrollo found he was angry. “A merman?” he said, his voice dripping with disbelief. “But, how? That’s…”

“It’s probably true,” Niyun sighed, stroking his shoulder. “We’ve had problems with them in the past, long before that beach became abandoned. You’re the only one who goes there anymore. We should have anticipated this.”

Anticipated this? “What do you mean?” he asked, looking at the elderly woman. Her white hair couldn’t hide her eyes, no matter how much she tried to avoid him. “I’ve been going there for years. Why haven’t you warned me about this?”

“Because you keep whatever’s there there and away from the main beach,” Jura huffed, reaching into his shirt pocket with a gnarled hand to pull out his pipe. He didn’t light it, but he chewed on it with worn teeth. “You attract people enough on your own. You keep that thing there so the tourists don’t get bothered.”

He didn’t know what to say to that.

“Child, we didn’t expect for it to come for you,” Lanali soothed, glaring at Jura for his blunt speech. “It was a precaution. We’ll have to intervene though, since the creature wants to drown you.”

Chrollo stared at the cold coffee, the words ringing through his head. “What do you mean?” he asked softly, his hands clenched in his lap. “He brought me back to the beach. Does he really want to drown me?”

He knew the myths of the _encantado._ He knew what they did with those they found, and it wasn’t drown them. Hisoka’s words from before echoed in his head.

_I can’t tell if I’d rather eat you or fuck you._

“What do I do?” he whispered. “I left my basket there. How will I gather shells now?”

“Stay away from the beach,” Niyun told him softly, helping him stand. She reached for the shell and wrapped his fingers around it, patting his hand. “You may not be so lucky next time.”

He registered nodding and mumbling some general thanks for the information, but beyond that, Chrollo couldn’t concentrate. Behind his eyes, he saw gold and fiery crimson. He felt warm arms and heard that smooth voice. Salt covered his tongue, and for a moment, he was drowning again.

She said to stay away, but he didn’t know how possible that was. Even like this, his feet firmly settled on dry land, he felt the call.

Chrollo made his way home in a daze, the shell clutched to his chest like a talisman. Mali called out to him, but he couldn’t look away from the floor. It was nearing mid-morning when he exited the café. If someone tried to get his attention, he didn’t notice.

He entered his house, closed the door, went to his bed, and fell into the soft mess face first, groaning into his pillow. If he didn’t get up and change clothes, he’d have sand in his sheets, but it was hard to care about that with the weight of the words crashing down on him like suffocating waves.

They’d known, and they still let him wander that beach. They’d known, and now he was marked. Chrollo bit his lip until he tasted copper, curling into his blankets as if they could ward off the chill of the water’s embrace. He hated how he wanted to return to it, if only to feel those strong arms around him once again.

He’d attracted the thing he’d been offered up to. Chrollo buried his frustration in his pillow. Like any good sacrifice, he’d crawl to the knife all on his own. Hisoka’s pull wouldn’t allow for anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an encantado is a type of merman known in Boto culture along regions of the amazon river. it means "the enchanting one" in portuegeuse and its literally a type of merman who seduces beautiful women into the water to impregnate them, like a water incubus. i figured its fitting, so i went with it. i lit have no idea what island theyre on though in this fic so just suspend your disbelief and enjoy the ride.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vague descriptions of vomiting

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed in bed. Sleep came eventually, his exhaustion too much to ignore, and Chrollo woke up hours later in the dark. His eyes opened reluctantly and his stomach growled. The shell was still clenched in his hand, and that more than anything, brought back the severity of his situation to him.

Pushing himself upright, he sat on the edge of his messy bed with the shell in his cupped palms.

Why him?

The question roiled like an angry storm behind his eyes, and for a moment, Chrollo felt the sudden urge to dash the shell against the wall. His fingers tightened around the delicate edges, the pain of the sharp thing ignored. It was a gift from a monster that wanted to drown him, and the elders had offered him up to it with eager hands.

Chrollo tossed the shell to the pillow beside him, forcing himself to stand. His vision spun and his stomach protested angrily, demanding he eat. A few sips of coffee didn’t make a meal.

He made it into the kitchen and to his pantry before he was rushing to the sink, emptying his vacant stomach in harsh, painful retches. Shoulders shaking and hands scrambling for the faucet, he turned on the water and stuck his head beneath the stream, praying it would wash away this sick, cloying feeling lodged in his chest.

Why him? Why him? Why was he the one always drawing things in?

The water felt too much like drowning. He turned off the faucet and shook his wet hair from his eyes, leaning heavily on the counter for support as he watched the water trickled down the drain. The shell, still laying innocuously on his pillow, seemed to burn his eyes when he turned to look at it.

Another wave of sickness threatened to overcome him, and Chrollo left the kitchen to snatch up the shell. He knew it wouldn’t stop. Not unless he did what he knew the creature wanted.

The island was alive, even this late at night. Chrollo threw himself into the forest, ignoring the trail to avoid any who might still be awake. His bare feet knew the way by heart, treading carefully over fallen branches and silken, desiccated fronds. A tree’s leaves tickled his cheek and Chrollo held tighter to the shell, ignoring how it felt like the webbing between Hisoka’s fingers.

The trip took no time at all, the persistent ache in his stomach only easing the faster he moved. His breathing had grown a bit ragged by the time he escaped the forest and entered into the cove.

Moonlight lit the beach with a silvery glow, reflecting off the sands in a bright gray. Chrollo scanned the water for any sign of the creature, but the surface was as smooth as glass, broken only by the careful waves cutting along in raggedy crests. A seed of hope took root in his chest. Perhaps he’d be able to grab his basket and run before Hisoka caught wind that he had come.

He took one step onto the soft sand before that seed burst to flames before his eyes. A strangled cry of distress lodged in his throat, cut off before it could announce his presence to the monster that already knew he was here.

The pier was empty, but his basket was right there, waiting for him at the edge of the tide. It called to him, telling him to come, to rest beside it in the water. A tear rolled down his cheek. His feet moved independent of his instincts, and Chrollo sat amongst the waves, letting them wash over his legs while he came to terms with the fact that there was no escaping the hold Hisoka had on him.

Inside the basket lay dozens of shells. Blue, orange, pearl, and even pink like the ones before were settled in the padded wicker; Chrollo placed his one on top, the shell chiming softly as it settled alongside the rest.

Chrollo stared out into the sea, his hands folding limply in his lap. Was this a joke? Some sort of sick trick? A salty breeze rolled in off the waves, stinging his already raw eyes. The elders had let him play bait for this monster thinking he’d be safe since he couldn’t swim. The basket on the sand told him well enough that keeping out of the water would do little to protect him.

A gentle wave rolled in, glistening like glass in the moonlight. It broke against his body, sucking the sand out from beneath him. He felt it go, and he wanted to follow. The insistent pull pressed against his body like impatient hands.

Hisoka was here. He couldn’t see him, but he’d know this feeling anywhere.

“Come out if you’re going to come out,” he said, his voice echoing a little over the water. “I want to look you in the eye if you plan on killing me.”

A warm laugh answered him, Hisoka breaching the surface with a measured grace. Even in the moonlight, he looked beautiful. The pale light danced along his glistening skin, as bright as any star in the cloudless night sky. Like this, his hair looked the color of blood, rich and warm and visceral.

“I called and you came,” he crooned, swimming right up to him until he nearly held him in his arms. “What an obedient one you are. Did those elders not warn you to keep away?”

Chrollo kept his eyes on the black waves, his expression blank. “They told me I’m here for a reason. I keep you away from the other beaches.” A warm, wet hand ran down his bare arm. “They thought if I couldn’t swim, I wouldn’t be at risk. Was it you who told them you could only compel those who were in the water with you?”

He didn’t look up to see Hisoka’s expression, but he felt his smile play out against his shoulder regardless. It was answer enough.

“How long have you been watching me here?” he made himself ask.

Hisoka reached his hand up to curl around his throat, the webbing on his fingers tickling like damp silk. “Since you could barely carry that basket of yours,” he murmured in his ear, like a secret between intimates. “Always alone, always so quiet. What do you think about while you work? I’m so endlessly curious about you.”

His breath was hot against his throat but Chrollo held down on the urge to shiver. If he closed his eyes, it made it easier. “I think about everything,” he breathed. Sharp teeth skimmed his cheek, the shy press of lips falling in a chaste kiss just below his eye. “About the trees, the sand. My shells.”

“But not the sea?” Hisoka teased, coiling his tail around his side to hold Chrollo in place.

“I can’t swim.”

“So you say, but does that mean you never wonder?”

Chrollo opened his eyes, staring into darkened gold. “What do you want from me?” he asked, too tired to avoid it any longer. “I need to know.”

Sharp fingers cupped his face, tilting him up for the monster to move his attention towards his neck, nipping and tasting the delicate skin. “I want some fun,” he sighed, his breath tickling along the damp trail his lips left. “I want to break you and ruin you and tear you to pieces until there’s nothing left to play with.”

He’d thought as much.

Hands tightening in his lap, Chrollo let out a shaky breath. Hisoka was so warm against his back, his naked chest searing through the thin layer of his shirt. “Do I have any choice in this?” he asked, letting the creature run his hands along his hips, sneaking beneath his shirt to brush his bare skin.

“You could try to ignore me,” Hisoka supposed, kissing his shoulder. “If you resist my call, you might be able to escape me.”

“I don’t plan to escape you.”

Hisoka pulled away, taking him by the chin to look him in the eye. His face was awash with curiosity. “You don’t?” he asked, smiling so warmly it stung. “Do you want me to kill you? Is that what this is?”

Chrollo sighed, leaning into the hand cupping his cheek. “I don’t want to die, but you can’t be let loose on the other beaches.” As much as he hated this, he understood the rationality of the elders’ decision. Tourism was strongly linked to their economy. Without it, the island would dry up and fade away. “If I keep you occupied, then I guess I’m yours.”

For some reason, the creature looked put out hearing that. His lips curled into a pout and his grip fell away so he could cross his arms. “Awfully self-sacrificing, aren’t you?” he observed. “It’s no fun for me if you don’t fight at least a little. You’re stronger than this, so give me a good fight, won’t you?”

“Would there be any point in fighting?” Chrollo posed, raising a brow.

“No, but it’s still something fun for me to do,” Hisoka replied, as if that should be enough of a reason for him.

Turning away, his sight resting on the basket at his side, Chrollo gave a weak laugh. “If there’s no point, I’m not going to. I’m sorry if that bores you, but if you wanted a fight you should have set your sights on someone who cared more.” His fingers trailed over the shells, a gentle tinkling noise sounding when they shifted against each other.

Hisoka watched him with sharp eyes, chewing the inside of his cheek like a petulant child spurned. “I could kill you. Right now,” he whispered, grabbing Chrollo by the hair to bring his ear to his lips. “I could rip out your throat with my teeth. Tear you apart until there’s nothing left but meat and bone. I could drag you to the bottom of the sea and no one would ever find you.”

“And I wouldn’t struggle,” Chrollo said softly, his eyes flicking to meet golden ones.

“I want you to.”

“I won’t.”

Gritting his teeth, Hisoka glared at him. He let go of his hair. Chrollo stared at him, waiting for what came next. The silence was deafening, surmounted by the quiet song of the ocean lapping against them.

“I think I see why you were the one given to me,” Hisoka murmured after a moment of profound nothing. “You really aren’t like the others, are you?”

Chrollo closed his eyes and turned his face towards the sea, his hands returning to his lap. “Different enough that they felt me expendable.”

“Oh, I don’t think they thought of you as that,” Hisoka sighed, taking him by the shoulder until Chrollo lay back into the surf, the water nearly at his chin. “But you are mine, and I still want you, even if you are no fun.”

“Lucky me,” Chrollo said wryly, trusting the creature to hold him above the water. “What now, then? If I bore you, what will you do to get your fun?” Though the surf was cool, the touch was hot enough to make up for it. Smooth scales brushed past his bare ankle, Hisoka coiling around him like a snake.

“Well,” the monster crooned, his hands wrapped around Chrollo’s waist and his lips to his ear. “I suppose I ought to teach you to swim.”

Chrollo opened his eyes, his vision dominated by the handsome face and sharp teeth. “And then?” he breathed, his hands trembling minutely in his lap. Soft lips skimmed his hair.

“After that,” he whispered, “we’ll just have to see.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more vomiting descriptions in this one

“…ollo. Chrollo? Honey, are you listening to me?”

Chrollo looked up from where he had been staring at the sugar dispenser, blank eyed and inattentive. Mali was staring back at him, her hands on her hips with a concerned look on her worn face. Had he zoned out again? He rubbed tiredly at his eyes, hoping she wouldn’t be too hard on him.

“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered, turning up to face her. “I promise, I’m listening now.”

Instead of continuing on with her story, her lips morphed into a sad frown. “Chrollo, are you feeling okay? You haven’t been yourself lately.”

He sighed and let her feel his forehead for a temperature, leaning into her hand. It wasn’t like he could tell her why he hadn’t eaten or slept, or why his mind was so restless. “I’m just not sleeping well,” he settled on saying, reluctantly turning away from her touch. “You know how I get sometimes.”

Mali bit her lip. She didn’t believe him, but there wasn’t much she could do anyway. “You haven’t been eating much, have you?” she asked, though she knew him well enough to know she was right anyway. “You gotta eat, honey. I’m gonna make you some breakfast, okay? I want you to eat all of it before I let you leave here.”

“Mali, coffee is fine—”

She held up a hand, her expression serious enough to make him stop. “Chrollo, do you care about me?” she posed, looking at him hard enough to make him want to fidget.

Chrollo wilted. “Yes,” he answered. He was doing this because he cared.

“If you care about me, you’ll let me feed you.”

She held him in her gaze a moment more, but Chrollo didn’t try to deny her again. Turning back to the kitchen, she shouted out an order to the cook that he barely made out through the kitchen-jargon. Chrollo sighed and rested his head on his crossed arms, his feet kicking gently against the bar.

He didn’t want to eat. He knew he should, since it’d been days since he’d last had something more filling than coffee, but something always seemed to kill his appetite when he began to consider it. The scent of bacon and eggs and fried, greasy diner food wafted past his nose, but even that didn’t stir his stomach to growl. Chrollo sighed into his arms, squeezing his eyes shut. If he managed a few bites and played with the food enough on the plate, maybe Mali would give him a break.

The plate in question clattered to the counter a moment later. With a fortifying breath, Chrollo lifted himself from his arms and stared at the dish piled high with food. “Did you seriously have him make me all of this?” he asked, disbelieving. This was the sort of meal put on the menu to appeal to the tourists who ate their weight in food. None of the locals ever got this sort of thing.

“I want you to eat all of it,” Mali chided, crossing her arms to stand and watch him. “I know what you like and don’t like, so there’s no excuse for you to turn up your nose at it.”

Chrollo grimaced, taking the fork in hand. “Mali, you know I can’t eat all of this,” he tried, looking up at her pathetically.

She raised a brow and refilled his coffee mug without looking at it. “You’re going to try,” Mali ordered, no room for excuses in her voice “Get to it.”

It was daunting, to say the least. The plate was filled to the edges with all manner of breakfast food. Eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, even pancakes: Chrollo picked up the dry toast and took a small bite, chewing under Mali’s watchful eye.

Whatever he expected to happen, didn’t. The toast went down his throat easily enough, and his stomach didn’t reject it outright. With growing hope, he scooped up a bite of eggs next, swallowing them down without incident either. His eyes widened and Mali smiled victoriously, turning away to go top off another customer’s coffee.

He scrambled to eat as much as he could, desperate to fill his empty stomach after two days of nothingness. Slowly, the plate began to clear. There was no way he could eat it all, but he made a sizable dent, his head clearing for the first time in too long now that he had fuel in his body.

The fork settled next to the half-filled plate a few moments later, Chrollo recognizing his limit. “Mali, I think I’ll die if I eat another bite,” he reported lethargically. “Can I stop or are you going to make me be the first customer to die at a table?”

“As fun a story as that’d be to draw in tourists, I think I like you more alive,” she laughed, coming back over to assess the progress he made. “You want me to bag the rest of this up for you? You can finish the rest later maybe.”

Chrollo stared at the greasy food and weighed it out. “Can you just keep it here for me?” he asked. “You know how I am about eating at home.” He forgot more often than not, and leftovers tended to rot in his fridge before he ever remembered to get around to finishing them. At least here they’d be kept until he inevitably came back for more coffee.

“Not a problem, hun, I’ll box it up for you.” Mali took up the plate and carried it back to the kitchen, barking out another unintelligible order.

“Thanks, Mali,” he sighed, draining the rest of his mug. “I need to get going. I’ll try to be back later tonight.” Hisoka would be expecting him, and Chrollo knew how pointless it’d be to prolong what couldn’t be any longer than he already had.

“Get some rest, okay?” she called out, reaching for his empty mug to take it to the wash sink. “You look terrible.”

Laughing under his breath, he raised a hand in farewell and made for the door. Salty air greeted him once he crossed the threshold. What little clarity he’d gathered back muddled the more the scent pervaded his senses. Chrollo swayed a little and turned towards the sound of the ocean tide, his insides twisting and turning in time to the far off tempo.

Sweat chilled the back of his neck. Bringing his wrist to his mouth, he walked faster, avoiding the eyes that turned to watch him move through the village. His sarong fluttered around his ankles and Chrollo began to run, his face growing pale.

He made it to the edge of the forest before he was retching into the dirt, emptying his stomach of all he’d managed to get down. Tears poured down his cheeks when the retching turned to heaving, his stomach turning itself inside out when there was nothing left to give. Chrollo choked and coughed, shaking and sweating. Why was this happening to him?

Wiping at his mouth with a hand that shook, Chrollo forced himself to stand up. The peace from before was gone, washed away like flotsam after a storm. He leaned against the base of a tree, pushing himself forward. Invisible hands carried him forward, urging him on through the pain and sickness, an insistent current that couldn’t be ignored.

The beach opened up to him and, dazed as he was, he didn’t bother scanning the shoreline for Hisoka before he walked into the surf, falling down to his knees to rest. The pressure eased the more he submerged himself.

“Hisoka?” he whispered, watching the seafoam curl around his hands. “Hisoka, are you there?”

A muted splash answered him, the creature surfacing with a warm laugh. Chrollo didn’t bother to look up and find him. He knew he’d come to him anyway, especially if he asked. Warm hands brought his from the water, lifting them up to be kissed by a smiling, sharp mouth.

“I’m always here,” he chuckled, pulling him deeper into the water so he could coil around him fully. “How are you today? You look like you’ve have a rough day.”

Chrollo looked up, hardly able to bear how handsome he was like this. A hand moved up to cup his cheek and he leaned into it. It was awful how much better he felt now that they were touching.

“Why can’t I eat?” he asked, his voice weak and raw from the vomiting. Hisoka was so warm around him, holding the chill that crawled along his skin at bay, despite the day being balmy. “Why do I keep throwing up every time I try?”

A smile rested in the small of his neck, Hisoka far too entertained by his discomfort. “Haven’t you ever been in love before? You’ve got butterflies in your stomach,” he teased, laughing lightly. “They’re fighting to get out.”

Chrollo sighed, watching the how the sunlight felt and distorted the shape of his feet below the water. “Be serious. Please,” he tried, tilting his neck to let Hisoka kiss along the expanse.

“You should be more fun. It’s boring if I just tell you.” His hand fell to Chrollo’s hip, slipping beneath his top to feel his rib bones. “What do I get if I tell you?”

“What do you want?” he asked listlessly, dragging a hand through the wet sand to let it go, fogging up the crystal clear water.

Wet, sharp fingers took him by the chin, tilting his attention away from the sand to look at the monster’s face. Hisoka was thinking, his head cocked a little while he took him in. Chrollo wondered what he saw when he looked at him. A meal? A victim? Or maybe just a toy.

“You are so beautiful,” the creature sighed, kissing just beneath his eye. “I want you to be more fun.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Chrollo gave, his shoulders slumping. “Please tell me, Hisoka. If it’s something you’re doing, I’d know not to try eating at all.”

Hisoka rested his tail in his lap, curling around him so he rested against the creature’s chest. “You should still eat, silly. You just can’t eat without me,” he gave, keeping cryptic to the very end.

It was soothing, being held like this. He ran his hands along the finned tail, fingers dancing along the iridescent scales. Warm, smooth, and colored like a burning sunset, he could hardly qualify that this was real.

“You’re mine. You’ll only accept the things I give you.” The words were whispered into his ear, lulling him deeper. “Soon you won’t be content with anything but me. I can’t wait until you’re finally all mine.”

His hand stilled on the warm tail. Salt water dried on his skin, but the sensation was familiar at this point.

“Will you bring me something to eat then?” Chrollo asked, turning his head up to meet the lips trailing across his cheek. The kiss was soft, chaste, and entirely unlike any he’d expect from something that wanted to tear him to pieces for fun. “I can’t last much longer like this, and I don’t want to keep getting sick. It hurts.”

Hisoka rolled them, holding Chrollo down with the weight of his muscle until he was laid out on the shore, the tide licking at his collar bones. “What will you do for me if I feed you?” His tail flicked in the water, splashing coyly behind him. When the light shone through the fins, they glowed a brilliant orange.

Chrollo bared his throat, inviting the sharp mouth to explore. “I’ll come swim with you,” he offered, closing his eyes while his cheeks heated. A clever tongue lapped at his pulse point. “You could show me how, and we could…we could…” He trailed off, his breath going short the more the creature teased him.

Cold rushed in a moment later, Hisoka pulling away before Chrollo could open his eyes to ask what was wrong.

“Hold tight for a minute,” Hisoka ordered, that familiar weight in his words that told him not to move or try to run. “I’ll be right back to finish this.”

The denial was grating, and Chrollo tried not to regret the loss when he watched the creature swim off towards the sea. He shifted a little but found he couldn’t sit upright, not with the command keeping him down. Fists clenching in the sand, he let the grains trickle out of his hands, pulled back into the ocean’s grip with every roll of the tide.

The time alone gave him time to calm down, his heart slowing its pounding without Hisoka’s touch to send it sprinting. Chrollo closed his eyes and let the water wash over him. It tugged against his clothing, begging him to go deeper, but he had his orders.

Soon, he answered the cresting tide. Soon, so be patient.

“You look so thoughtful,” a warm voice whispered, and Chrollo opened his eyes, seeing that Hisoka had returned. Droplets of water dripped from his damp hair, speckling him while he hung over him. “Did you miss me?”

“I missed being able to sit up,” he answered, and he felt the weight holding him down ease enough to push himself upright. “Where did you go? I thought you were having fun for once.”

It was then that he saw that Hisoka’s arms were full.

“Well, someone said they were hungry,” Hisoka huffed, pouring his armful of fruit into Chrollo’s lap. Bananas, papaya, kiwi; fruits of all types tumbled into the water, caught in the hollow his sarong made when he crossed his legs. “Who am I to let you suffer in such a boring way?”

He stared down at the feast, his stomach aching while his head told him it’d be pointless. Throat raw and burning, Chrollo hefted a mango, wondering how awful it would feel to vomit twice in two days. He didn’t want that. Starving might be better.

Hisoka seemed to sense the direction his thoughts were going. “It won’t be like before,” he told him, brushing back a lock of his hair to tuck behind Chrollo’s ear. “Just eat already.”

Chrollo peeled one of the bananas, staring at the soft, pale fruit. Hisoka was watching him and he looked up to meet his eyes. “Do you promise?” he asked quietly, his hand shaking a little. “Do you promise it won’t make me sick?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Hisoka crooned, leaning over to kiss along his bare shoulder. He couldn’t seem to stop touching, his hands hungry for him.

A breeze rolled in and the scent of the fruit wafted along with it. Jaw tight and resolute, he took a bite, chewing and swallowing slowly. It slid down his throat, creamy and perfect. He couldn’t hide his surprise, and he looked at Hisoka, eyes wide and grateful.

“Did you not believe me?” Hisoka teased, his head resting in the crook of his neck to watch him eat. “I have a vested interest in keeping you more than a bag of bones, you know.”

“Planning on fattening me up?” Chrollo asked through a mouthful of fruit, eating faster now that he knew it was safe. The peel was dropped in the creature’s lap, and then Chrollo reached for a papaya, biting into it eagerly.

Hisoka glared at the refuse he’d been given, picking it up between his fingers before tossing it off into the sea. It soared through the air, the strength of the throw impressive. “You’d make a lovely meal,” he sighed, running his hand along Chrollo’s covered thigh.

Chrollo let him touch, eating his fill of the fruit. It was all so sweet and ripe, no doubt taken from one of the inlets that fed into the deeper parts of the island. He ate another banana and a few kiwis, his stomach filled and his mind quieted.

When he moved to drop another peel in Hisoka’s lap, it was taken from him instead by a waiting hand. “What now?” he whispered, giving him the peel and watching him lob it off into the ocean like the other.

“Now, I eat,” Hisoka said, his eyes hungry and his mouth opened in a vicious grin.

“Could you wait a bit?” Chrollo replied, folding himself into the monster’s arms. He rested his head against the strong chest, the waves serving as a blanket. “I’m kind of tired now.”

“Could you at least pretend to be afraid of me?” he grumbled, holding him tight with a sigh. “You’re no fun. No fun at all and it’s not fair.”

Chrollo smiled and nuzzled his cheek to the body beneath him. “You could let me go if you’re bored. We can go swimming once I wake up, so hush.” As awful as he was, Hisoka was comfortable like this. His head was blissfully empty, the insistent call silenced while its caller was holding him.

“Fine,” came the petulant answer. “If you wake up drowned then it’s your own fault.”

“I’ll take the risk,” he murmured, surrendering to the hum vibrating from Hisoka’s chest.


	6. Chapter 6

He awoke not to a suffocating wave of water, but to soft kisses and an entertained laugh. “What’s so funny?” Chrollo mumbled, blinking blearily up at the monster watching him. The sun was just teasing the horizon, casting the fiery red into a golden glow.

“You were talking in your sleep,” Hisoka answered, sitting up so Chrollo straddled his tail. His hands ran down Chrollo’s spine, the clawed tips of his fingers catching a bit on the sheer fabric. “It was rather enlightening.”

Chrollo blushed. “I don’t talk in my sleep,” he muttered, turning away from the laughing golden eyes. “You’re lying.”

Hisoka shifted beneath him, tipping him to the side until he tumbled off his lap. “Whatever you say, Chrollo,” he teased, swimming a little deeper into the water. “Ready for your swimming lesson? I promise I’m a great teacher.”

When he said it like that, it gave the opposite impression. Chrollo sighed and judged the time by the remaining sun. They had an hour or so left of light, not that the dark ever seemed to bother Hisoka. “If we do it quickly. I don’t want to spend another night out here on the beach again.”

“How cruel. I enjoy having you asleep and vulnerable in my arms. It gives me so many ideas.” Hisoka snagged his hand and kissed his fingers, nipping a little with his teeth.

“I’d think having me in the water with you would give you more.” The grip was tight, too tight to slip out of. Chrollo went further out, following along slowly.

“That’s what I love about you, Chrollo,” Hisoka sighed, tilting his head to accentuate the gentle waves of his hair against his handsome face. “You just seem to understand. Won’t you come swim with me?”

Leading him by the hand, Hisoka coaxed him deeper into the water until it stood at his chest. Chrollo fidgeted nervously, clasping the webbed hand tightly. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, hating how much colder the water felt this far out into the sea. It made him think of the pier, of drowning.

“That’s why I’m here,” Hisoka assured him, swimming around him confidently. “I’m an expert in the matter. Of course, you have legs, which is rather inconvenient. I sure hope you don’t drown because of them.”

“That’s not very comforting,” Chrollo muttered, letting the hands lean him backwards. They supported him easily, laying him out atop the water’s surface. “Promise you won’t let go.”

Hisoka laughed. “How will we know if you can swim if I don’t let you go? Inflate your lungs and close your eyes. Let’s get you floating before we get you swimming.” His voice was low and smooth, guiding him along gently when he finally closed his eyes. “If you feel like you’re in danger of going under, I want you to get in this position and float. Understand?”

Chrollo hummed, doing his best to keep his breathing slow and even. With his eyes closed, it was easier to relax, though Hisoka holding him helped considerably too. “But I have you to rescue me,” he joked, his breath hitching when he felt the hands begin to fall away. “Hisoka, don’t—”

“I’m right here,” he murmured, close enough to feel even if he wasn’t touching him anymore. “You’re doing fine. Try kicking your feet a little, move your arms. You won’t sink unless you start to panic.”

He felt more than fine just staying like this, but he tried a small kick anyway, figuring it would be better to try than to let Hisoka get fed up and tip him over to make him. Dipping down a little, he kicked and kicked, his breath coming quicker when the water brushed his cheek. It bobbed over his mouth and he sucked in a lungful of air, praying he wouldn’t go under.

“Hisoka?” he called out, opening his eyes. “Can I hold your hand?”

“Feeling nervous? You’re doing just fine,” Hisoka teased. He gave him his hand anyway, stroking his thumb over Chrollo’s scrambling fingers. “Think you’re ready to try it on your front?”

No, Chrollo thought, latching onto the hand with a death grip. He really, really wasn’t. He turned his head towards the creature, taking in how Hisoka’s hair bled into the setting sun. “Can we go back to the shallows?” he asked softly, beginning to lose the calm from before. How deep was he now? The cold seemed to seep upwards, a gaping maw intent on swallowing him whole.

“Only if you swim there yourself,” he told him, forcing Chrollo to let go of his hand.

“Hisoka!” Chrollo cried out, scrambling and sinking, his calm completely lost. “Hisoka, help!”

“You can do it, I believe in you,” the creature laughed, swimming away towards the shore with a flick of his glittering tail. “Just remember what I told you.”

Chrollo panicked, kicking and flailing and trying his best to follow him. His head bobbed under the water, the salt filling his mouth and coming out his nose. Eyes burning, he coughed and sputtered, struggling to fill his lungs with air to return to that relaxed peace he’d only just lost.

Hisoka waited a few yards away, lounging in the shallows with his arms outstretched. “Come on, you’re almost there,” he cheered, acting like a parent watching a child take their first steps instead of a cruel monster watching a person drown. “Kick your feet and use your arms.”

He was trying, Chrollo wanted to scream, but that would involve opening his mouth and letting in more salt. Inches were devoured slowly, each going by with excruciating fear and slowness. The second his toes felt the cold sand, he gave up on trying to swim, bobbing along the bottom until he could fall down on the sand.

“Oh, you were doing so well too,” Hisoka sighed, pouting while Chrollo choked and hacked into the shallow water. “You made progress today at least. Tomorrow, we’ll go out even further. You’ll get better eventually.”

Tears streamed from his eyes, more from the stinging salt water than from the fear. “That was awful,” he coughed, glaring up at the creature. “Why did you leave me like that?”

“If I do all the work for you, you’ll never learn.”

He’d rather never learn than be abandoned like that again. Chrollo turned his face towards the land, getting his breathing back under control before he bothered to look at Hisoka again.

It took a while for him to calm down, Hisoka paying him no mind while he cleared his lungs of the water and fear. The creature swam around in the shallows, delighting in the ease in which he commanded himself. Chrollo watched, his breathing evening out the more he lost himself in the whip of his tail and the prismatic rainbow his scales painted just below the water.

Chrollo bit his lip and couldn’t look away. He held out his hand but then paused, meeting Hisoka’s eyes. “Can I touch you?” he asked, shifting a little within the tide. It felt rude not to ask, even if Hisoka didn’t really extend the same courtesy to Chrollo.  

“Haven’t you already touched me?” he posed, raising a brow.

He refused to look away, even if he was embarrassed. “I’ll let you touch me,” Chrollo offered. “I just want to touch your tail a little. It’s pretty.”

“Oh, well if it’s pretty.” Hisoka rolled onto his back, floating on the water in front of him to invite him to touch. “Explore away,” he grinned, taking Chrollo by the hand to pull him closer. “I’ll do you next, since fair’s fair and I think you’re pretty too.”

“If you say so,” he muttered, going for Hisoka’s face first. He cradled the creature’s jaw, his fingers coaxing open the mouth that never seemed to stop smiling. Golden eyes stared at him, surprised by his choice of starting points.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, but Chrollo pressed his fingers inside his mouth, feeling along his sharp, pointed teeth.

“If you might eat me, I want to know what to expect,” Chrollo said simply, running the tip of his finger over a razor-like canine. They were curve inwards, designed to keep meat inside once it was caught.

A warm, damp tongue flicked out to meet him, dancing around his fingers like a tease. Chrollo sighed but didn’t pull away, curious how human the appendage felt.

Hisoka only put up with it for so long before reaching up to pull his hands from his mouth himself. “If you want my mouth on you, all you had to do was ask,” he gave, a little breathless. “I’ll get you well-acquainted in no time.”

Ignoring that, Chrollo bit his lip and took in the powerful tail, Hisoka’s face suddenly the far more dangerous prospect. In the dimming light of late afternoon, the scales glistened as bright as fire. His fingers met the creature’s hip, lingering on the place where soft, glittering skin transformed into metallic scales.

“I look so dull compared to you,” he murmured, taking one of the many fins in his hand to feel the sharp edge it boasted. “Are you poisonous?”

A ghost of a shiver traveled through Hisoka, barely perceptible but still there. “I don’t need poison to get what I want,” he answered, rolling onto his stomach when Chrollo tapped at him to move. “I got you where I want you without it, after all.”

His hands roved over the unfamiliar body, eager to explore every single divot of the tail and muscle before him. Hisoka, for as deadly and overbearing as he was, was still painfully beautiful. The colors he held in his scaled embodied an entire spectrum, catching the light no matter how he turned to prism into an enticing lure. Chrollo drew closer, helpless to resist.

“Can you feel my hands?” he found himself asking, drawing his fingers down the line of his tail. “How sensitive are your scales?”

Hot, molten gold rested on him, heavy enough to feel. “I can feel every single inch of you,” Hisoka whispered, his voice rough and low. “In the water, I can feel your heartbeat, the movement of your blood. I can taste your fear, your excitement.” His eyes fell to half-mast. “I think it’s my turn now.”

There wasn’t time to react before Hisoka struck. Chrollo cried out as he fell, Hisoka yanking his feet out from under him until he tumbled into the water, his neck just barely above the surface. Struggling did no good. Hands like iron locked around his hips, holding him in place so Hisoka could take his time exploring too.

That didn’t stop him from jolting upwards when a hand reached up his sarong, landing somewhere on his inner thigh with intent to go higher. Chrollo made a noise of distress and tugged on the strands of red hair fluttering in the water, jerking on Hisoka until he came up.

“Don’t touch me there,” Chrollo sputtered in response to the raised brow and expectant look at home on the creature’s face.

“You agreed to the deal,” he chimed in, tilting his head to kiss Chrollo’s wrist. “You touched me, so let me have my turn now.”

Shifting nervously, Chrollo couldn’t manage to quell the fire burning on his cheeks. “I didn’t touch you like that,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact. The hand up his skirt didn’t even have the decency to wait until he stopped talking to begin moving again.

His tail curling happily, Hisoka hummed. “You could have. I wouldn’t have minded,” he chuckled, trailing the tips of his fingers along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a virgin. Are all of you humans this skittish?”

One look at his face was enough to tell Hisoka exactly what he wanted to hear.

“You really are perfect, aren’t you?”

Chrollo looked away, his legs trembling a bit when the hand kneaded his flesh, just inches away from where he was beginning to want the attention to be.

“You feel so soft, like you’re meant to be torn to pieces,” Hisoka sighed, rubbing his cheek against Chrollo’s shoulder. A shiver ran down his spine, enough that Chrollo felt it through their touching flesh. “Chrollo, I want to fuck you so much.”

His face turned a violent red, red enough to even rival Hisoka’s hair and his darkest scales. “Please don’t,” he whispered, the shock making him meek.

Hisoka pulled away just enough to look him in the eye, his smile sharp and mean and so full of promise it stung. “I want to though,” he murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind Chrollo’s ear. “I want to carry you out to sea and fuck you beneath the surf while you drown. I want to see if I could make you cum before you run out of air.”

The way he said it, he made it sound like an idyllic date, a fun, romantic outing. Chrollo couldn’t look away from his golden eyes, a bead of sweat running down the back of his neck. “Please,” he whispered softly, “don’t.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Hisoka chuckled, kissing at his ear with soft lips and just the hint of vicious teeth to make him flinch. “I’m very good. You’d barely begin to black out before I’d have you coming undone.” A hand creeped up his side, leaning him back until only the waning tide and Hisoka’s support kept his head above water.

Chrollo closed his eyes and went limp, letting the water hold him like Hisoka had taught. “I just don’t want to drown again,” he admitted to the lapping sea. “It was…awful. Don’t do that to me again.”

“So you’d be alright with me fucking you then, so long as I didn’t drown you in the process?” Hisoka teased, no doubt savoring the blushes he elicited like clockwork every time he opened his mouth. His lips fell to Chrollo’s, whispering against him, “There are other ways to kill you, you know.”

There were, but Chrollo was floating on the waves, his blood racing with the kiss. He didn’t care, so long as he didn’t feel that crushing weight on him again. Hisoka could rip him to pieces and it’d be alright.

Maybe he’d be left on the beach afterwards, like a gift from the sea after a storm.

He laced his fingers through Hisoka’s soft hair, pulling him down for a kiss that nearly took him under. The creature held him though, keeping him above the water while he stole his breath himself.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw shark peen enjoy you sinners

Chrollo opened his eyes, the moon bright and observant behind Hisoka’s smile. He pushed gently at bare, strong shoulders, desperate for a few inches of space between them. “What are you doing?” he asked softly, hating how shaky his voice sounded. They were only kissing, but it felt so intimate. Perhaps, that was just his inexperience guiding him.

Hisoka didn’t seem to care. He moved his attention to Chrollo’s neck, his hands meeting at the collar of his shirt to rip it down the middle.

“Hey!”

The creature smiled, looking up at him through his lashes. A cool breeze teased his chest, chased by warm, fondling hands. “I want you,” Hisoka murmured, forgoing his compulsion entirely. He didn’t really need it. Chrollo felt breathless from his smile alone.

Shifting a bit under the assault, Chrollo let out a breathy whine. “Did you have to ruin my clothing? Hisoka, this is…” he trailed off, his attention wavering like a leaf in the wind. The world seemed to shift as he was rolled, splayed out atop Hisoka’s long, powerful body. The vestiges of his shirt fluttered to the ground, caught in the cresting tide that stole it away and out to sea.

Lips brushed his ear, the smile warm and unignorably present. “Oh, Chrollo,” he crooned, dipping his fingers beneath the waist of his sarong. “Are you scared?”

Salt coated his tongue but it mattered little once Hisoka was kissing him, dominating everything including his sense of taste. Chrollo closed his eyes and shivered, wrapping his arms around the creature’s neck to hold him closer. Sharp teeth scraped and split his lips, and soon, blood outweighed it all.

“You’re hurting me,” Chrollo murmured, licking the blood from his stinging lips.

“I can’t help it,” Hisoka apologized, leaning up to lick them too. “I just want you.” A hand went to the knot at his hip, tugging and pulling until Chrollo’s sarong slipped open. He tugged the patterned fabric away, baring him to his hungry eyes.

Chrollo turned away, trying and failing to hide himself. Water lapped at him, cooling where Hisoka’s sight burned.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how beautiful you are,” Hisoka sighed, taking Chrollo by the chin to make their eyes meet, regardless of how Chrollo felt. “Why don’t you touch yourself for me? Give me a show.”

There was no way in hell he was doing that. Chrollo flushed brightly and took the creature by the wrist, pulling his hand from his face. “Absolutely not,” he shot, trying his best to ignore how nice it felt to have the smooth, slick scales rub against his naked skin. A breeze rolled in off the ocean and he shivered, closing the distance between them to leech away Hisoka’s warmth.

“It’s not that hard to do though,” he crooned, taking Chrollo by the hips to roll him against his tail. “Is it too much to ask to see you drunk on pleasure?”

Rocking against the smooth, slick scales, Chrollo found it a little harder to think. “That’s embarrassing,” he managed to say, closing his eyes when his hips began to move of their own accord, rolling and rubbing until his cock was hard and wet.

“It’s embarrassing, but you’re still doing it.” Hisoka shivered a little, his own breathing quickening. The hands he had on Chrollo’s waist pulled him higher, concentrating his movements closer to the spot where his scales and flesh met. “Right here,” he murmured, laying back to watch him grind. “You’re making me excited too.”

Chrollo burned, from his cheeks down to his toes. The smooth, unbroken expanse of scaled tail seemed to roughen the more he moved. Opening his eyes, he looked between his spread legs to see Hisoka’s excitement first hand.

He froze in place and the creature whined, disliking the pause. “What’s wrong?” he asked, bucking his tail a bit to jostle him against his warm sex. “You act like you’ve never seen another’s before.”

If Hisoka hadn’t been smiling in glee, Chrollo might have been more embarrassed than angry.

“What is this?” he demanded, staring down at what appeared to be two cocks laying against Hisoka’s blood-red scales. They were long and hard, tapered whereas Chrollo’s was blunt. A cursory touch proved them to be hot and sensitive, if Hisoka’s low moan was anything to go off of.

“Just me, Chrollo,” Hisoka nearly purred, staring up at him through his eyelashes. “They won’t bite.”

“The fact that you needed to say that makes me really nervous.” Chrollo furrowed his brow and rubbed his cock against them gently, testing. Their moans were muted but shared, and Chrollo slowly built back the rhythm they’d had before, except now it was far warmer, and far more mind-numbing.

Hisoka was a vision beneath him, one that never seemed to fade no matter how many times Chrollo’s blinked. His powerful torso flexed and writhed in the sand, his pale skin brilliant in the moonlight. He let his hands feel the miles of muscle, his cheeks burning an even darker red. He told himself he needn’t be so embarrassed to touch, especially if they were having sex together.

The words reverberated in his head like a clap of thunder. They were having sex. Together. Hisoka wanted to fuck him, and he’d get his way like he always did. He looked down at the strange, dripping cocks, and couldn’t quite manage to imagine how it’d feel once it was inside him.

Chrollo leaned down to hide his face in the crook of his neck, his hips moving faster now that he wasn’t on display. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, with a monster no less. He hid his laugh in a moan. It figured, he thought, that he’d turn down every man who’d ever approached him but he’d find himself like this, in the arms of a creature dead set on murdering him for fun.

His orgasm came upon him before he could even think to take measures against it, and Chrollo spilled himself over Hisoka’s bucking heat. Chrollo keened, hiding himself in Hisoka’s neck. The strong arms wrapped around his back, holding him in place while the creature laughed lowly in his ear.

“Chrollo, I wanted to see,” he complained, his own voice a bit ragged from his excitement. “And look, you’d made such a mess of me.”

At his behest, Chrollo peered down between them, his face on fire when he saw how much he’d coated the scales and Hisoka’s own cocks. Brilliant red dulled with the translucent white. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, unable to look back up and return the humored stare.

Hisoka laughed though, brushing away the apology easily. His hands roamed, traveling down Chrollo’s shoulders to tease the skin of his lower back. “Don’t be sorry, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he praised, taking him by the chin to force his eyes up. “But it’d only be proper for you to clean up the mess you made.”

“Can’t you just…go swimming?” he asked, accepting the kisses readily. Chrollo didn’t know how he was supposed to clean him off. He needed his sarong clean if he wanted to walk back past the town to go home, so he couldn’t use it as a rag.

His thoughts were cut off when the grip on his chin shifted, sharp clawed fingers teasing at his lips. “I think there are more enjoyable ways to handle the mess,” Hisoka whispered, smiling brightly. “Don’t you think?”

Realization came quickly, and Chrollo sputtered. “Hisoka, that’s filthy,” he chastised, eyes widening when the fingers took advantage of his surprise to slip inside his mouth. They played with his tongue, coaxing him to suck and tease. Chrollo glared down at him.

“Don’t be so stiff, Chrollo. It’s just good manners,” he crooned, that melodic quality coating his words until Chrollo sucked weakly on his fingers. “Won’t you humor me? It’s not kind to leave me an unfinished mess when you’ve already gotten your fun.”

Chrollo met his eyes and breathed through his nose. His fingers wrapped around Hisoka’s wrist, tugging them past his lips to kiss. “Okay,” he whispered, averting his eyes before Hisoka could gloat.

Brushing his hair behind his ear, Chrollo leaned down, kissing lower and lower until his lips met slick wet. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he opened his mouth and got to work.

Bitter salt coated his tongue and Chrollo wrinkled his nose, his eyes shut tightly while he licked. Hisoka chuckled above him, his hand in his hair to guide him down. The lengths of his strange sex were burning against his lips, responding to every pass of his tongue. Chrollo opened a single eye to watch, growing more confident when he saw Hisoka melting into the sand, lost to the pleasure he brought him.

Opening his mouth up wider, Chrollo got brave. He took one of the cocks in his mouth, letting his hand work the other. Hisoka let out a shuddering, shaking moan, his fingers flexing in his hair. Chrollo closed his eyes and concentrated on the weight of it on his tongue, coating it with saliva. When he’d tired of it, he moved to the other, guided along by the weak grip on his hair and the pleading moans of the creature coming apart below him.

A shiver of heat traveled down his spine. Chrollo flushed, feeling his own cock harden once again. He pulled away from Hisoka to breathe, staring up at him wantonly. “Hisoka,” he sighed, rolling against the tail again. “I want you.”

“I want you too,” Hisoka replied, tugging him up until they could kiss. His hands traveled to Chrollo’s waist, moving back to tease at his entrance. Distracting him with the kiss, he pressed to fingers inside, stretching him quickly and roughly.

The feeling was so foreign that Chrollo had to pull away. “Hisoka, that feels—” he complained, but Hisoka scissored his fingers, not caring.

“Just put up with it for a bit longer, it’ll feel good soon,” he promised, adding in a third before Chrollo felt ready. “I want inside you so much. You feel so hot and tight.”

“Oh my god, Hisoka.” Chrollo rolled into the fingers, shaking and trembling. A breeze tickled his sweating skin, cooling his skin even as he burned all the hotter. “Just do it, come on. I can do it.”

Smiling like a crocodile, Hisoka pulled out his fingers and lined himself up, perching Chrollo over his cocks. Chrollo looked down and saw them between his legs, reality racing back in for a moment. He grabbed Hisoka by the hand, stopping him before he thrust inside.

“What’s wrong? We’re so close,” Hisoka complained, bucking upward impatiently.

Chrollo didn’t let him go. “Don’t do them both,” he ordered, sounding far more adamant than he felt. “Just one okay? Hisoka, it’s—”

Hisoka cut him off, laughing low and husky. “Are you scared?” he teased, maneuvering himself to brush against Chrollo’s thighs.

Biting his lip, he watched the cocks leave sticky, wet trails along his legs. “I’ve never done this before,” he whispered, avoiding eye contact. “Don’t make me do both, not for the first time.”

“Oh, Chrollo, I want to devour you,” Hisoka chuckled, looking up at him meanly.

“Promise me,” Chrollo begged.

Taking him by the cheek, Hisoka smiled gently up at him. “I promise I won’t the first time,” he swore, guiding Chrollo down. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Chrollo ignored the patronizing tone, too focused on the cock slipping past the ring of muscle to fuck inside him. He shook and stopped breathing, Hisoka yanking him down until he was speared in place. The cock that wasn’t inside him settled in between Chrollo’s spread thighs, glistening wetly.

“How does it feel?” he asked breathlessly, his eyes dancing with pleasure while he lifted and dropped Chrollo, the pace intense from the start. “You feel so good, Chrollo. I want to watch you come undone like this.”

“Hisoka,” Chrollo choked, tears pouring down his cheeks. He leaned down across Hisoka’s chest, burying his breathy sighs in his ear. “Hisoka, it’s so much.”

“Imagine having them both inside you, splitting you in half,” Hisoka whispered back, taking Chrollo’s hand and wrapping it around his lonely cock. “You’d wrap around me so tightly, like you never wanted to be apart.”

Chrollo worked the cock in his hand, using the motion to distract himself from the very hot, very hard flesh inside him. He writhed and shifted, bouncing along with Hisoka’s rhythm, seeking the bright edge of pleasure dancing just outside his reach. Hisoka kept up his string of dirty talk, goading him on like a dare.

He barely registered the sound of splashing water until he back met the beach, Hisoka rolling them to get better leverage. Chrollo gasped and moaned, letting himself be moved however the creature pleased. Or he did, until Hisoka pulled out of him, turning him onto his stomach with his ass up and on display.

“Hisoka, please,” Chrollo shook, the sand scratchy and coarse against his cheek. “I want it back.”

“You want it back? Chrollo, that’s rather greedy of you.” Hisoka lined himself back up, the heavy weight of his body pinning him fully to the damp sand. “What if I indulge you a little?”

Chrollo opened his mouth to beg, but his voice was strangled from his body when Hisoka pressed back inside, both of his cocks seeking to fill him. The stretch was unbearable, but with the creature holding him in place, he could do little but take it as quickly as it was given. Sharp teeth sunk into his shoulder, the pain dragging him viciously towards his orgasm like a wave swallowing an island whole.

“You promised…” he tried to say, but his voice crumpled and died out, the overwhelming stretch too much.

“I promised not to the first time,” Hisoka laughed, kissing his ear. “This is technically the second time I’ve been inside you.”

For a moment, Chrollo wondered if he were already drowning.

His release coated the sand and added to the dampness, sticking to his bare skin. Hisoka shuddered above him, his brutal pace only speeding up. “Chrollo, did you cum again?” he asked, his voice a laugh. “You’re perfect, absolutely perfect.”

Chrollo couldn’t reply though. He struggled to breathe under the onslaught of Hisoka’s weight, the creature so intent on chasing his own pleasure that he ground Chrollo into the sand. The damp sand stung his raw nerves, cutting into him like tiny, bladed pebbles. Sharp teeth buried themselves deeper into his shoulder, forcing him to take it.

“Hisoka, please,” he somehow gasped, tears blurring his vision enough to distort. “I can’t take this.”

“Yes, you can,” Hisoka growled in his ear, cumming inside him a moment later. “You can take it all because you’re mine. All mine.”

The hot flood of cum stung as much as the sand, filling him up until he thought he might pass out. Hisoka didn’t let up at all. He kept his pace brisk and harsh, fucking his release deeper and deeper until Chrollo feared he’d never be clean.

He almost didn’t register it being over until he felt the hot rush of cum trickle down his thighs, Hisoka pulling out in a way that almost came off as gentle. Chrollo crumpled to the sand, the creature falling down alongside him with a strong, iron-like arm trapping him against his chest. Kisses fell to his cheeks and eyes, kissing away his tears while the deep, melodic tone forcibly soothed him into a daze.

“Chrollo, oh, Chrollo, you were so perfect for me,” Hisoka sang, touching him all over. The tide was rising with every breath they took, blanketing Chrollo’s feet in cool, enticing waves. “We should do it again, but this time beneath the ocean. I want to make you sing until your lungs fill with water.”

Chrollo shuddered and brought up a hand to Hisoka’s cheek, looking into his cruel golden eyes. “Just let me rest,” he sighed, his speech slurred and tired. “Hisoka, I’m just…”

A warm hand covered his, holding it to the creature’s face. “If you fall asleep, I’ll leave,” he whispered, his smile cold and biting.

Trying valiantly to force open his heavy eyes, Chrollo frowned. “Don’t leave me alone,” he begged, though he knew his hand would fall if Hisoka’s wasn’t there to support it. “Hisoka, not after that. I don’t want to wake up alone.”

“Then don’t fall asleep.”

Chrollo wanted to cry. His hand slipped away from the monster’s cheek, and his eyes grew so heavy. Every blink came at a cost, and tears coated his lips when Hisoka kissed him.

“Please,” he pleaded, feeding the words to him. “Don’t go.”

A smile curled against his lips, just as his eyes refused to open. 

“Come find to me when you wake, Chrollo,” Hisoka whispered, tangling his fingers in Chrollo’s hair. “You can have me forever once you do.”


	8. Chapter 8

Consciousness greeted him messily and painfully, and when Chrollo cracked open his eyes, he wished to anything listening that he had never had the bad luck to be the one thrown to the proverbial wolves.

His body was a mess of pain and sticky filth, sand crusting his skin. Hisoka had been kind enough to throw his sarong over him as a blanket, but not enough to be there when he awoke. Chrollo winced and pushed himself into a sitting position, shivering uncontrollably though the day was warm. Every breeze that rolled in sent sand falling from his hair, chilling his damp skin like a cool, ghostly kiss.

Hisoka had left him alone after all of that. His eyes stung but he refused to react how he desperately wanted to. The creature left him on the beach, naked and cold and alone, like a discarded toy on the verge of breaking.

He stared at the pier, wondering how everything had gotten so off track. Was his necklace still beneath the waves? Chrollo clenched his fingers in the sand, wishing he could go back to when his days consisted only of seashell hunting and warding off tourists.

Limbs trembling like a newborn foal, Chrollo forced himself up, clutching the sarong around his shoulders to stave off the chill that wouldn’t retreat. A preliminary scan of the coast showed nothing. Hisoka wasn’t here, and his compulsion wasn’t felt. He was alone. All alone.

Chrollo stood and covered himself, refusing to ruminate on how terrible that thought made him feel. He didn’t need to feel worse right now, given the state of his body. His shirt was lost to the sea so he hitched his sarong higher, wearing it under his arms instead of around his waist. It left his legs on display but he felt better like this.

The first step was hellish, so he gritted his teeth and forced himself to move faster, wanting to mitigate the suffering by traveling as quickly as he could towards the forest. Uneven ground tried to trip him up, but he used the trees to keep himself up and moving. Every step sent pain along his spine, his muscles aching in a way he’d never felt before.

Voices sounded beyond the tree line ahead and Chrollo froze, leaning against a tree. Were they villagers or tourists? Either option made his stomach turn. He had no idea what he looked like right now but he couldn’t imagine he looked anything but fucked out and used. His hands shook against the smooth bark and his heart raced, panic tightening his throat.

What was he going to do? His back met the cool trunk of the tree and he turned his face up towards the canopy, watching the sunlight filter through the leaves. It’d be so much effort to trudge through the forest away from the trails. Did he have the strength to do that?

One once over of his current state told him quite decisively that no, he didn’t. Sighing, Chrollo wrapped his arms around his middle and shoved off the tree. If he had to put up with being stared at, he’d rather get it over with quickly instead of prolonging it. Chrollo wanted to fall into his bed, to change his clothes. Anything to get that faster.

He kept his head bowed when he broke from the cover of the trees, his eyes focused on the ground beneath his feet and away from the voices of the men ahead of him. From their accents, he could tell now that they were tourists. Chrollo didn’t know if it were better this way. If they’d been villagers, they’d no doubt see something was wrong with him and demand answers.

It only took the men a moment to catch sight of him, and it was obvious right away that they didn’t notice anything but his exposed legs.

One nudged his companion, a crooked grin on his face as he leered. “Hey there, baby, you look like you could use some fun,” he called out, the words a bit slurred from the booze he’d no doubt already consumed.

Chrollo winced and kept moving, his pace increasing to avoid them.

“Hey, you hear me?” he called again, and his friends chipped in, calling out to him like a stray cat spurning their unwanted affection. “You don’t gotta run so soon, right? Come have a drink with us. Show us around, baby, we’re new in town.”

They always were, and they always wanted what wasn’t promised on the vacation package. Chrollo wrapped his arms tightly around his middle and kept his head down, his palms beginning to sweat when the sound of their footfalls grew closer. They’d cross in a moment, he told himself. He needed to be ready to run or fight, should they try to grab him. With his body aching like this, he couldn’t imagine a worse time to have to defend himself.

He could feel their eyes on them when their paths met, and Chrollo kept his eyes to the ground, not wanting them to see what was no doubt painted easily across his face. One stood in front of him, pointedly cutting him off so he couldn’t keep going.

“It’s not polite to ignore people,” one of them complained, the stench of his beer-steeped breath all too present. “We just wanna show you a good time.”

“No thank you,” Chrollo murmured, avoiding their eyes. He shifted uncomfortably beneath their stares, wishing Hisoka hadn’t ruined his shirt. A breeze tickled his bare ankles, his naked legs. “I just want to go home.”

A man laughed, forcing Chrollo’s chin up so he could take a look at his face. Chrollo glared back weakly, observing the rumpled state of the man’s collared shirt, the loose way he wore his tie; he was a businessman, no doubt on a company retreat and looking to blow off some steam with his coworkers at the expense of those who wanted no part in it.

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” he observed, side-eying his companions. “Why don’t you show us the sights a little before you go home? Show us how to fully appreciate the island.”

Chrollo hardened his glare. He was sick of this. His body ached, his stomach hurt, his mouth tasted like salt and he wanted his bed. “You don’t need me to appreciate it,” he shot, smacking the hand away, his temper on the verge of imploding.

The mood turned from prospective to pissed in the time it took to breathe.

“That’s pretty rude of you,” the spurned one said, his glare muddled by his drunken state. “We just wanted to show you a good time. Bet you never even seen the kind of money we’d spend on you.”

“Don’t bother with him, Quinne,” another spat. “The bitch probably already got used up for the night. We can try again tomorrow and beat the rush.”

On some level, Chrollo knew they were only trying to hurt his feelings. They didn’t actually know what he’d been doing, or why he felt so miserable. He knew, but it didn’t matter. Chrollo closed his eyes and shoved past the man blocking his path, setting off in a sprint down the soft dirt path.

It didn’t matter. All he wanted was to be home.

He ran to his house and left their jeers behind him, not stopping until he came to his front door. Every part of him hurt, the ache tearing through him now that he didn’t have the frustration pushing him on. Chrollo rested his forehead against the wooden door, staring down at the Tupperware container on the mat. A small note was taped to the top, damp from dew. The heart on it was still visible though.

Mali always did worry about him.

With a sigh, Chrollo bent down and picked up the container, letting himself into his home. It hurt, somewhere deep in his chest, to think she’d gone to so much effort for nothing. He couldn’t eat this. Not without getting sick at least. Setting it on the table, he unwrapped his sarong and let it fall to the ground, eager to be rid of the sand and cold fabric.

After so long spent at the cove, it felt odd to stand within his own home. He pulled the blanket from his bed and wrapped it around himself, feeling warmer than he had in far too long.

Chrollo didn’t let himself get comfortable yet. As tired and aching as he was, he still forced himself to his bathroom and into the shower, scrubbing himself clean of the salt and filth that had made itself at home on his skin. The fresh, treated water felt almost foreign to him after so long in the sea, and he savored it for as long as he could, only turning it off once the water threatened to grow cold.

Once he’d toweled himself off and slipped into some new clothes, only then did he allow himself to truly relax. The pervasive call that had hounded him for so long was conspicuously silent. He laid in his bed and held his pillow to his chest, his heart stuttering at every creak and shift of his old home. Would it come while he slept? It was hard to imagine that Hisoka would have the patience to make him find him.

Closing his eyes, he tried to rid himself of thoughts of the monster.

A moment later, he had to open them again, his cheeks burning when the smallest of shifts sent his body aching once again. The soft fabric of his shirt skimmed the fresh bite on his shoulder, almost tickling him through the muted sting.

He could hardly believe that all of that had really happened. The pillow was cool against his hot cheeks, so he buried his face in the soft cushion, trying to forget the feeling of Hisoka’s heavy, warm weight bearing down on him.

Maybe Hisoka didn’t need to compel him to come, he thought. Maybe the memories were enough all their own.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heavy chapter is heavy, but i think you guys sense what's about to happen. don't read if you can't handle sad shit.

When he woke up to nothing, Chrollo held his breath like that alone might change the tenuous calm. His body throbbed with pain, but it meant nothing to the clarity in his head. It rang like a bell, nearly deafening without the muddling weight of the call. He took a slow, shaky breath, waiting for it all to swarm back in, but it never did.

Hisoka really had left him alone, at least for the moment.

Chrollo grit his teeth and tried to ignore how empty he felt without the oppressive weight on his shoulders. Forcing himself upright, he glanced towards his kitchen and the leftovers he hadn’t bothered to put away. Something told him that it wouldn’t be okay, no matter how free he felt in the moment. Hisoka had left him to return at his own will, but that didn’t mean he was free of the monster’s presence.

He shook when he forced himself to stand, wrapping the blanket around him to ward off the chill. It was a warm day, and his home wasn’t cold, but being inside and away from the beach seemed to sap his body heat from him. Chrollo moved into the kitchen to fill a cup with water, sipping it slowly until he’d drained two full cups.

He dropped the glass when a knock sounded on his door, shattering the cup in the basin of his sink.

Nerves frayed and heart pounding, Chrollo turned his head to stare at his front door as if he expected it to burst open at the behest of a monster. His hand shook and he tightened his fingers around the blanket, edging closer to the door when another knock rang out.

Pressing himself against the wooden surface, he peered through his peephole with his heart in his throat and his breath sharp and harsh.

He didn’t expect to see Mali, though considering her personality, he honestly should have.

“Chrollo?” she called out, leaning against the door on the other side. “Honey, are you in there? It’s been days and I’m getting worried.”

It may not have been some beast intent on eating him, but now Chrollo had to deal with a far scarier prospect. He bit his lip and warred it out with himself, his mind racing through the consequences of alerting her of his presence. The Tupperware wasn’t on the doorstep, so she knew that someone had come by and moved it, so there was a good chance she knew he was inside.

“Some tourists said they saw you,” she said through the door, concern layering her voice. “Are you okay, hon? Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Chrollo turned and slid down the door, resting on the floor with his back to the wood.

_You don’t have to go through it alone._

He did. He absolutely did. He buried his face in the soft blanket, wishing she’d just give up and leave. The Elders might not have cared when they decided to leave him on Hisoka’s chopping block, but Mali would, and she deserved more than to have to deal with the weight of knowing what Chrollo was meant for. Better she left and forgot about him.

Hisoka may have given him back some control, but he’d left Chrollo with nothing but a slightly looser noose.

“Chrollo?” she said, after a moment of nothing. Her voice wavered, and Chrollo knew she was near tears. “Please, let me help you. I care about you, remember?”

Tears, hot and burning, ran down his own cheeks. He held himself tightly and willed himself to drown out her voice.

It took ages for her to leave, and by the time she finally did, Chrollo had laid himself out on the floor by the door, burrowed in his blanket while he silently cried. His stomach ached and his every muscle burned. He didn’t want to be alone, but he was. The emptiness in his head magnified with every passing moment, and Chrollo knew well enough why Hisoka had left like he had.

Hardly a day had passed and he was already desperate for the call to return. Wiping at his stinging eyes, Chrollo stared down at the blanket in his lap. He knew what he needed to do. He got dressed in a daze and made sure that no one was in sight before leaving his home. He took no chances this time, disregarding the pain he felt. He took off through the forest itself, ignoring the familiar trails.

Chrollo didn’t think he could handle it if someone came upon him and tried to stop him.

Rote memory guided his feet, the soft, silken fronds and ferns deadening his footfalls as he moved. The branches of the trees tugged gently at his clothes, begging him to go back. He didn’t have the heart to tell them how impossible that was. Everything he had left was waiting for him beneath the sea, hidden behind a sharp-toothed smile and laughing, cruel, golden eyes.

The beach was empty, the crystalline waves lapping against the white sand in gentle, whispering crests. Chrollo came out to the edge, the water washing over his bare feet, but nothing changed. He was alone, just as he’d always been before, nothing but the calm tides and ocean breeze as company.

“Hisoka?” he called out quietly, but he knew he’d get no response. It wouldn’t be much of a game if he gave up at the first stage. The soft sand settled around his feet, the pull of the tide coaxing him deeper, begging him to come play. Chrollo closed his eyes and sighed, walking through the shallows until he came to the pier.

If the sea told him to go deeper, then he’d go deeper.

Sunbaked wood was warm beneath his bare feet, worn smooth from the decades of storms, tides, and traffic. As he walked, his remembered the years spent on its surface, trusting the pier to hold him above the deep brine while he worked. It’d never failed him. At least, it hadn’t until the rest of his world had turned against him.

Chrollo saw the soft slip of color against the dark wood, and he knew his search was almost over.

A single shell, pale pink and round, sat at the end of the pier. It waited for him, like a gift from the sea.

“Will I find you?” Chrollo asked softly, taking it in his hand as he sat down, dangling his legs like he used to when he made his necklaces. His thumb stroked over the smooth shell, and when he turned it, he found a single red scale nestled against the curved concave.

A melancholic smile curled his lips. “I guess I’m getting warmer,” he sighed, cradling it in his palm.

The sun was beginning to set. Chrollo stared at the prismatic watercolor painting the horizon, letting the colors burn his eyes until they smarted. His toes trailed the surface of the water.

It was so beautiful here. He closed his eyes, letting the warm breeze card through his hair like a lover’s touch. So very, very beautiful.

His fingers loosened their hold on the wooden pier, his body relaxing. The air was scented with salt and green, wild and intoxicating. A tear rolled down his cheek, but he didn’t bother wiping it away. Loving this island was easy to do, and that made this choice simple.

Chrollo tipped forward and fell into the ocean, no pervasive, mind-numbing call needed to send him over the edge. Salt filled his mouth and burned in his nose, the instinctual urge to fight against the cold deadened by his acceptance.

Through it all, he held tight to the shell as he returned it to the sea. The light above him receded, the burning, exploding sun just a dream painted upon the surface above. It wavered when the water refracted and swayed, whispering goodbye to him, as if he were a departing friend. Bubbles streamed from his mouth and ruined the illusion, until they too eventually stopped.

Drowning didn’t leave much time for reflection, but this wasn’t drowning, he told himself. He sank like a stone, pulled down by inevitability and sorrow. This wasn’t drowning, he repeated. It was just what was meant to happen.

There wasn’t much time left to argue with himself over the semantics. It was dark here. Dark but peaceful. Chrollo’s head felt close to bursting, his lungs heavy with the ocean inside him. He wasn’t alone, but that was okay. He didn’t expect to be alone again.

Sand met his back, and then strong arms cradled him like a newborn. The sharp, rounded shape of his lost necklace met his fingers, and he held it as tightly as he could in his weakening hand.

 _Look,_ a laughing voice seemed to say. _You finally swam down and got it._

Chrollo closed his eyes to the burning red. He didn’t need to look anymore.

He’d found what he’d lost, and Hisoka would see to the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there will be an epilogue


	10. Chapter 10

“Holy shit, Blake, haul ass or I’ll leave you behind!” Kent shouted, trudging on ahead while his friends lagged behind. The beach was nearly visible through the thick trees, hidden from the path like an undiscovered gem. Soft waves sounded quietly, begging him to hurry up.

He wanted to, but with how fuckin’ slow his friends were being, he wouldn’t get there until the next century.

“Bro, I found this creepy ass sign!” Blake crowed, muffled by the foliage. “This beach is fuckin’ cursed!”

Kent stopped and groaned, turning his head to see the barely-there sight of his pledge brothers dicking around in the forest, content to play with whatever weird-ass local touristy-bullshit they’d found. “Fuck you guys,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be at the beach whenever you dumbasses get bored of that shit!” he shouted over his shoulder.

They didn’t answer, and it was just another reason to trudge on ahead, coming out onto the beach alone. The thick trees gave way to soft sand and pure blue sky. Kent breathed it in and took a moment to gloat. What idiots, wasting their time back there when they could be out here, on a beach away from the crowds.

Kicking off his sandals, he made for the water, stripping as he walked. How had no one found this beach yet? It was secluded but serene, the pier old but picturesque against the skyline. There weren’t any beach babes to look at, but it didn’t detract from the beauty of the place.

Kent threw himself down onto the sand, his arms crossed behind his head and his sunglasses perched on his nose. The other guys would probably complain the second they got here. They’d come to the island to pick up hotties, and an empty beach with just them equaled a sausage party and not much else. At least he’d be able to enjoy himself a bit in the sun before going back to the village to try their luck there.

And man, this island was brimming with beauties. A couple of the other guys had already gotten lucky, but he was still waiting for something special to come along. The rising tide tickled the tips of his toes and he sat up, staring out over the waves.

It’d be so good to get laid again. Maybe he’d bring her out here, so they could fuck on the beach. That’d make for a good story to tell the guys.

“Ohh,” a soft voice exclaimed, drawing Kent’s attention to the water in an instant. “I didn’t expect to see someone here. Oh, I’m so embarrassed, no one ever comes out here.”

He caught sight of the swimmer, his eye drawn to the glimmer of his skin and the shy curve of his lips. “Hey, no need to be embarrassed,” he fumbled, a ripple of heat trickling down his spine. “I didn’t see you out there.”

Water ran down the guy’s face, his hair wet and tucked behind his delicate ears. Pale pink settled along his cheeks, a slender hand coming up to cover his mouth. “I’m not dressed,” he admitted with a mortified blush. “I had no idea there’d be someone who might see me.”

He prayed he wasn’t imagining the look of assessment being thrown his way.

Kent wasn’t into dudes, but good God did he like what he saw. Porcelain skin, bottomless eyes, lips that looked like they were made to be wrapped around a dick: he cleared his throat and stood up, slicking back his hair in a way that showed off his arms. The guys weren’t here anyway. No one had to know.

“Do you uh, come here often?” he asked, curious why he wasn’t coming closer to shore. Even if he was naked, it wasn’t like Kent could see all the way out on the sand. “I thought this beach was abandoned or something.”

The beauty smiled, and it made Kent’s heart constrict. “I’m about the only one who does come here. It’s lonely sometimes, but I like the quiet.” Dark eyes flicked up to take him in, shy and demure. “I didn’t expect to see someone like you here.”

Kent swallowed hard and eased into the water, walking until it came up to his knees. “Someone like me?” he asked, nearly falling over himself to get closer. The stranger’s skin glowed under the sunlight, his slender shoulders bobbing gently as he treaded water.

“A tourist.”

“Do you have a problem with tourists?” The water was up to his hips now, hiding his obvious excitement that was starting to tent his board shorts. “I’m not like the others. I feel like I’m part of this island already.” He’d definitely be a part of _this_ islander if he played his cards right.

Smiling coyly, he looked at him through his lashes, retreating deeper into the water. “Do you now?” he sighed, something unreadable in his eyes. “I adore tourists. You’re all so much fun. Won’t you come swim with me? It’s been so lonely here lately. Maybe I won’t be so embarrassed if you join me too.”

Kent felt the blood rush from his head and he was moving before the words truly registered to him. He dove in and swam towards the gorgeous local, tearing the distance to pieces until he was nearly on him. This was going to be so good. The image of those lips around his cock was seared into the back of his eyelids.

He froze though when he realized his target had disappeared. Stopping, he tread water while he looked, panting a little from exertion. “Hey!” he called out, scanning the surface of the water for dark hair and abyssal eyes. “Where’d you go?”

Soft laughter rippled off the cresting waves, sending a shiver down his spine. His breathing came short and he stared nervously at the far shore. “You playing a trick on me, baby?” he chuckled, trying to hide how rattled he was in the sound. Blake’s voice filtered through his mind, something about curses. “Come on, come out. I’ll treat you right. You won’t be lonely with me.”

“You’re right.” Cool arms wrapped around his middle from behind, soft, icy lips brushing the shell of his ear. “I won’t be lonely,” the smooth voice chimed, his smile audible. “Not with you.”

The cold encased him and Kent tasted salt, black like an oil slick devouring his sight.

 _I love you tourists,_ that enchanting voice whispered through the garbled, waterlogged screams. _You never did know how to resist me._

\-----

The men broke out of the cover of the forest, jostling and shoving at each other as they horsed around. “Hey, Kent!” Blake shouted, panning the beachfront for their missing friend. “Bro, you totally missed it. Levi found a branch shaped like a dick!”

“Yeah, and Blake looked like he wanted some time with it,” Levi cackled, dodging narrowly to avoid the punch thrown at him. “Kent, where you at, dude?”

There was no sight of him, the beach empty of everything except the sound of the gentle waves and the lonely pier. “His stuff’s here,” Ryan observed, kicking at the sandals and discarded shirt. “Do you think he swam around or something?”

Blake narrowed his eyes and picked up the shirt, following the footprints towards the water. “I doubt he’d leave his stuff if he was gonna just go somewhere else.”

It was then that he saw it, the glimmer of black floating atop the cresting waves. Kicking off his flip flops, he waded into the water and snatched up the sunglasses.

They were designer, and obviously Kent’s.

A sliver of fear, sudden and confusing, teased down his spine. Biting his lip, Blake got out of the water as quickly as he could shy of running. Warm plastic creaked in his hand, his fist tightening around the sunglasses.

“I think we should go back to the hotel,” he said, instinct screaming though the beach was as idyllic as a postcard. “We can wait for Kent there. He’s probably already there, just fucking with us, you know?”

Levi hummed, kicking at the sand. “You think? Without shoes?”

Blake swallowed and started for the trail, not willing to wait around to argue about it. He snatched up the sandals and wrapping the shirt around them. He had a feeling Kent wouldn’t miss them.

 “Yeah,” he murmured, hiding the scratched and broken sunglasses in the heap. “He’s not here anymore.”


End file.
